


Christmas 1944

by slightlytookish



Category: Band of Brothers
Genre: Canon Era, Episode: s01e06 Bastogne, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Period Typical Attitudes, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-24
Updated: 2019-12-24
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:15:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,543
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21886531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/slightlytookish/pseuds/slightlytookish
Summary: "Hey," Nix said, dropping down beside him. "You okay?"Dick turned his head to look at him and felt the whole forest tilt on its side. He closed his eyes for a moment, and when he opened them the dizzy spell had passed. He needed to get his head screwed on straight. People were counting on him. This wasn't the time to crack up, if there ever was a time.Or, Dick gets hurt in the same attack that got Harry, and decides to keep it to himself. The only trouble is, he should have counted on Nix noticing.
Relationships: Lewis Nixon/Richard Winters
Comments: 22
Kudos: 129
Collections: DDSherman Holiday Exchange for BoB 2019





	Christmas 1944

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Muccamukk](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Muccamukk/gifts).



"Some Christmas dinner, huh?" Harry said after they'd finally made it through the chow line and watched as Joe Dominguez scraped the bottom of the pot for their portions. "I wish Sink hadn't told us about that turkey at division. I'm starving."

"Hey, who needs a turkey dinner when you've got-" Nix broke off to stare into the contents of his canteen cup. "Eight beans to eat?"

Dick peered at his own dinner and counted five beans bobbing in half a cup of rapidly cooling broth. The three of them had brought up the rear of the chow line and were clearly paying for it with their meager servings. He gave his cup a hopeful shake but more beans didn't magically rise to the surface, and the movement only served to slosh its contents around inside.

Beside him Harry was still grumbling. "It wouldn't be so bad if we had some bread. Or booze."

"Ask and you shall receive, my friend," Nix replied, handing over his flask. "Thought about saving that for us to make a toast tonight but what the hell, it's Christmas."

Harry's face lit up in a manner usually reserved for anecdotes about Kitty. "You know, maybe this'll turn out to be a merry Christmas after all."

"Until the whiskey runs out," Nix agreed. "And that's the last of it, so go easy."

Dick took a sip of the tepid soup, grimaced, and then choked the rest of it down in two gulps just to get it over with. "Scrounging not going so well?"

He couldn't imagine that it was, for all that they were surrounded, but Nix had a knack for always finding what he needed. Then again, if what Dick had heard about the aid station in Bastogne was to be believed, any alcohol was probably being used on the wounded.

"Working on it," Nix said, though his grim expression was enough of an answer. There were deep shadows under his eyes that hadn't been there last Christmas Eve. They'd been in Aldbourne then, and Nix and Harry had coaxed Dick to come to the officers' pub for a few hours. He didn't remember much about that evening at the Blue Boar, other than the carols playing on the record player and how warm and happy Nix had looked as they sat in the glow of the roaring fire. Dick couldn't think about that fire for too long without feeling the cold dig even deeper into his bones, and he couldn't think about how watching Nix that night had made his heart clench with longing - and still did now, one year later.

But Aldbourne was a million miles away, or as good as, and Nix was still talking to him. Or at least, he was trying to; his voice sounded like it was coming from underwater, and Dick had to shake himself back into focus. "Hmm?"

Nix was watching Dick carefully, and there was an edge of concern to his gaze that hadn't been there before. "All right?"

Dick must have been daydreaming for a while, and he couldn't exactly admit that he was feeling homesick for a place that had never been his home, or longing for a man that could never be his. His best friend, no less. Nix was probably looking for signs that he was cracking up, and wondering whether he'd have to go to Colonel Sink and tell him that Dick should be pulled off the line for combat fatigue, and an explanation like that wouldn't convince him otherwise. Dick ducked his head in embarrassment. If it weren't so bitterly cold, he knew he'd be blushing right now. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine."

Nix made a disbelieving sound and when Dick glanced up he could see Nix's eyebrow creeping higher, a silent testament to exactly how much he didn't believe him. Dick sighed. He'd never been able to lie to Nix anyway. "Just thinking."

"Never a good idea," Harry quipped. 

Nix continued eyeing him for a moment longer before nodding, apparently satisfied that Dick wasn't losing it yet. "Here's something that might cheer you up," he said, reaching into the pocket where he always kept his cigarettes. Dick had only a moment to reflect on how Nix could always read his moods, sometimes even better than Dick himself could, before Nix tossed a chocolate bar in his direction.

It was Belgian, or maybe French, and smaller than the Hershey bars he was used to while somehow managing to feel heavier. It was probably expensive. He was sure he didn't want to know where Nix had filched it, or from whom. He knew Nix didn't care about chocolate at all and the thought that he'd gone to the trouble to get it for him made Dick smile for the first time that day, or maybe even since they'd arrived in Bastogne. "Thanks, Nix." 

"Don't mention it," Nix said. He collected his flask from Harry despite Harry's protests and jammed his hands into his pockets. "Now I've got to look up Third Battalion's CO and find out what the hell's going on over there. You two stay out of trouble until I get back."

"Aye, Captain," Harry said, offering him a sloppy salute.

Dick opened his mouth to say something - _take care_ or _stay safe_ , or something equally pointless - but Nix had already turned aside. Dick watched him disappear into the trees, and then broke open the chocolate to share with Harry.

* * *

Fire wasn't a good idea, and he told Harry as much, but Dick still couldn't stop himself from crouching between him and Peacock and reaching his hands towards the flickering flames. 

He hadn't seen Nix for hours, not since he went over to Third Battalion, and he hadn't seen much of anyone else either as he'd walked the line. The men were huddled in their foxholes, and even the Germans had stopped singing Silent Night some time ago. Their side of the line was just as quiet, and Dick couldn't help wondering how long it would be until their guns woke up and started zeroing in on them again. It was too much to hope for another Christmas Truce; it wasn't 1914, and the Germans had already threatened to overrun them. It was only a matter of time before they decided to follow through. 

It was almost a relief to hear the ice crunching beneath his boots as he turned down the familiar path to the battalion CP, if for no other reason than to provide some counter to the unnatural stillness of the woods. It was an even greater relief to come across Harry and Peacock, even if they were sitting around a fire. 

Dick should tell them to put it out. He should rush at it and stomp out the fire himself before it gave away their position. They were all officers, they all should know better. But the woods were so cold and the fire was so small, and Harry promised it was only for a couple of minutes. Just enough to get the chill out of them, though Dick knew the bitter cold would come right back.

"We're in a dell," Harry said. It sounded quaint, like they were characters in a storybook going on their first adventure. 

So he crouched between Harry and Peacock and reached his hands towards the fire. He could feel the welcome heat of it through his gloves, and imagined he could feel its warmth against his face, though the fire was too far away and too small for that, no matter how many twigs Peacock fed it. It was nothing like the cozy fire at the Blue Boar a year ago, and Nix wasn't even here for Dick to sneak glances at, but he gratefully leaned towards it all the same. 

There was a noise behind them, and suddenly Nix was there. Dick would know those footsteps and that slouching stride anywhere, and he couldn't prevent his heart from leaping at Nix's presence. It was as if Dick's thoughts had summoned him, or maybe the fairies and gnomes of Harry's dell did. Maybe he really was cracking up. 

"I swear I thought I could smell a fire," Nix said, and it was right around then that everything went to hell.

* * *

No one would ever mistake Harry for a big man, but it still took four of them to carry him to the jeep, limp as he was from the pain and the effects of the morphine. Dick went three steps with them before he felt a wave of nausea rise up inside him. The ground tilted beneath his feet, but Dick still had enough presence of mind to hand off Harry's other leg to the jeep's driver to carry before he fell over and did more damage to Harry.

After a moment the odd sensation passed as quickly as it had come upon him, and Dick felt fine as he headed back to tell Roe to go into town for a while. He'd never been squeamish around blood before, and even crouching by the blood-soaked snow where Harry had fallen so he could talk to Eugene didn't turn his stomach again. It must have been the shock of seeing a close friend hit, Dick told himself before pushing it firmly from his mind. He had enough things to worry about now. 

The jeep sped off through the trees, taking Harry and Roe with it. Dick knew he should get up. He needed to get Sink on the radio and report in, and he needed to check in with the company COs and see if anyone else was wounded. Harry was a good officer and well-liked among the men, and his absence would be a blow to the entire company. The news that he'd been hit was probably already making its way up and down the line. Dick needed to reassure the men, let them know they weren't alone, and he couldn't do that by crouching in the snow. 

But he could feel a headache building, and the thought of having to face the men and tell them they'd lost one of their best officers made his stomach roll again. The leadership problem in Easy Company was no secret, and even before tonight he knew he didn't have enough competent officers that could be relied upon to keep their heads under fire. If the Germans finally decided to make an effort to overrun them, Easy and the 101st would be sunk in no time without the right leadership. Worst of all, it was all his fault.

"Hey," Nix said, dropping down beside him. "You okay?"

Dick turned his head to look at him and felt the whole forest tilt on its side. He closed his eyes for a moment, and when he opened them the dizzy spell had passed. He needed to get his head screwed on straight. People were counting on him. This wasn't the time to crack up, if there ever was a time. 

"What are we going to do without Harry, Nix?"

They both knew he was talking about more than which company could spare an officer to transfer to Easy, or which NCO would have to step up and take on more duties. Harry's absence would be a personal loss for the two of them as well, and Dick could see that Nix felt it as much as he did. But he also saw the moment that Nix pulled himself together, when he grinned like everything was going to be all right, just to reassure Dick like always. 

"Hey, he'll be fine. You think a scratch like that is going to keep a guy like Harry down for long?"

Dick huffed. "More than a scratch."

Nix waved his hand like it was nothing, like Harry's agonized screams weren't still ringing in their ears. They were still ringing in Dick's, at any rate. "He'll be going AWOL from the aid station before you know it."

Dick knew Harry wouldn't stay away from the line for a moment longer than he had to, but he also wouldn't be on his way to the aid station right now if it weren't for Dick's poor judgment. Never mind the leadership problem in Easy; no one had failed more than Dick had tonight. 

"I should've ordered him to put out that fire."

Nix sighed and shifted closer. Dick could feel the warmth of him all against his side, and it was all he could do not to rest his aching head on Nix's shoulder like a small child. The thought was so nice he almost didn't hear what Nix said next.

"And I should've done something as soon as I saw you guys. We're all at fault here, and Harry would be the first one to admit it. You can't beat yourself up over this, Dick."

Dick nodded, but the movement caused a spike of pressure in his head. Nix's face went blurry, and Dick raised a hand to rub at his eyes. He could hear Nix sigh again, and wondered if Nix thought he was trying to hide his tears. Whatever it was, Nix rested his hand on Dick's shoulder and gave it a squeeze, and after a moment the pain in Dick's head subsided enough that he could look at Nix again and see him properly. 

Nix met his eyes searchingly, and Dick hated worrying him even a little bit when they had so many other things to worry about. At least his eyes were dry; maybe that was why Nix tried to crack a joke. "Think Harry'll make it to Bastogne in time for Sink's turkey dinner?"

That at least made Dick smile. "I wish he would."

"Speaking of Sink," Nix said. "I'll get him on the radio and report in. You don't look so hot, Dick. Why don't you sack out for a bit? Might as well take advantage of the quiet before the Krauts start up again."

"No, I've got to check on the line-" Dick started, but Nix cut him off.

"The line was still holding when I walked it ten minutes ago but if it makes you feel any better I'll check before I call Sink. Come on, go to your foxhole, or at least go back to the CP. You're too damn close to the line over here. Where's your helmet, anyway?"

Dick was tempted to say that Nix was just as close to the line, and should really be back in town with the rest of the regiment staff officers, but he just grasped Nix's hand and allowed himself to be hauled to his feet. He almost fell over when Nix let go of him, he was so dizzy, but somehow remained upright. Even more surprisingly, Nix didn't notice, but that was probably because he was hunting down Dick's missing helmet. 

"Here you go," he said, plunking it back on Dick's head. "Merry Christmas."

"Already gave me a present," Dick mumbled. He felt himself waver on his feet, but Nix caught him by the elbows. Nix was always there to catch him.

"Jesus, maybe you're coming down with something. Want me to walk you back?"

Nix sounded worried, and Dick really shouldn't keep him from his duties any longer. He'd already caused enough trouble for one night. "No, no, I'm fine. Go call Sink. I'll see you at the CP."

"All right," Nix said, sounding doubtful. Dick made a point of walking towards the CP at the same pace that he always did, knowing that Nix was watching. It took an effort when it felt that the ground was shifting beneath him with every step, like he was back on the troopship. Somehow he must have made it look convincing enough for Nix because Dick eventually heard him go off in the opposite direction, footsteps crunching the ice until they faded into the distance. 

It felt like it was taking twice as long to get to the CP than it usually did, and when he finally reached it he stumbled through the makeshift doorway and dropped onto the nearest ammo crate like a sack of potatoes. Dick's head was throbbing as if there were a couple of machine gun nests inside it, zeroed in on his skull and using it for target practice. 

Maybe Nix was right and he really had caught something. Half the battalion had come down with nasty coughs, and nearly all of them had runny noses and sore throats from the cold. Dick had been spared for a while but of course that couldn't last. He just hoped it wasn't the flu. The dizziness came and went, bringing waves of nausea with it every time, though as long as he sat still it wasn't so bad. More than anything he felt exhausted.

He wasn't sure how much time had passed before he heard Nix's footsteps thumping towards the CP. "Sink had a message for you," he said, taking a seat on the crate nearest to Dick.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. He said to 'hold the line, goddamnit, and tell Winters to get some sleep.'"

Dick threw him a skeptical look, and tried not to wince when the movement made it seem like the trees were spinning around them. "I doubt he said the last part."

"Well, he should have." Nix squinted at him through the darkness. "I'm saying it now, anyway. You need to get some rest, Dick. We won't hear anything about Harry tonight, so there's no point in waiting up for news."

"I know." Dick curled in on himself, hunching against the cold as much as he tried to steady himself through the dizzy spell. "I'm not tired."

"Sure you're not." Nix eyed Dick for another moment. "Are you going to tell me what's wrong, or do I have to guess?"

"Nothing's wrong."

"Bullshit. Come on, what is it? That old injury from Carentan bothering you again?"

"What? No." Dick hadn't thought about it in weeks, not since they'd left behind Holland and the relentless rain that had always made his bad ankle ache, but he knew Nix wouldn't let go of this without more information. He was like a dog with a bone sometimes, always gnawing at something until he got his way. Maybe that was why Sink had tapped him to be an intelligence officer. "Lew, I'm fine. Just have a headache."

Maybe Nix would've believed him if the wave of dizziness hadn't suddenly crested, hitting Dick hard enough to make him feel like the CP was turning upside down. His head was throbbing and he felt those five beans he'd eaten for dinner sloshing around in his stomach. He was vaguely aware that Nix was calling his name, but Dick just gripped the crate he was sitting on with both hands and curled into himself even more, and tried to wait it out.

When the dizziness receded it took the nausea with it, though Dick's stomach still felt unsettled. When he finally sat up Nix was kneeling beside him, one hand on Dick's knee and the other planted firmly on his back, like he was trying to prop him up somehow.

"Dick." He swallowed hard. "You need to tell me what the hell is going on."

Nix hadn't even looked this afraid when he was shot in the helmet in Nuenen. All the fight went out of Dick then; he couldn't keep it from Nix any longer. "Think I'm coming down with that cold that's going around the battalion. Or the flu, maybe. First started feeling it after Harry was hit. Headache, nausea, dizzy spells. No cough yet, though."

"Lucky," Nix said, sounding like Dick wasn't lucky at all. "You said this started when Harry was hit?"

"Yeah. Look, you should head out, go back to your foxhole or something. I don't want you catching whatever I have."

Nix didn't make any attempt to move away. "Doesn't sound like you have a cold."

"Well, whatever it is, we don't need you coming down with it too."

"Only started after Harry was hit," Nix said half to himself. "Hang on a second. Did you hit your head back there?"

"Uh." Dick didn't remember hitting his head. He'd remember that, wouldn't he? But he remembered falling to the ground hard, and in the confusion that followed he'd been too concerned with helping Harry and yelling for Roe that it all seemed like a blur now. He pulled off his helmet and gingerly touched his head, feeling for injury, and sure enough his fingers brushed against a bump starting to form up by his hairline. He prodded at it, and it was tender enough to make him flinch and drop his hand. "Maybe?"

"For Christ's sake," Nix muttered. He fished around in his pocket for his lighter.

Dick frowned in disapproval. Foolishness had caused enough damage tonight already. "Put that away, Nix." 

"I'll block you," Nix said as he got to his feet. He angled his body so that he stood between Dick and the German line, and held up the flame. "No blood. That's good, right? Oh, what the hell, I'm no medic." He flicked the lighter shut, still looking troubled. "Still think you've got some kind of head injury. Concussion, maybe."

Dick frowned again, but in his heart he knew that Nix was probably on to something. It made more sense than the flu, anyway; he'd had it once as a boy, and he could still remember the aches and pains in his limbs, and the fever and chills, none of which he had now. 

It all went back to that damn fire. "Stupid," he muttered. He'd been so stupid tonight.

When he glanced up again Nix was watching him with a look that could only be described as fond. 

"Better keep that on," he said, setting Dick's helmet on his head for the second time that night. "And you need to see a medic. I'd yell for one now, but morale's already gone to shit without letting everyone know battalion CP needs a medic again."

Dick had to agree. "Get me Spina, but wait until I'm in my foxhole."

"Feel up to walking?" Nix said. Dick wasn't entirely sure, but he let Nix haul him to his feet all the same. He didn't feel as dizzy as before and his head wasn't aching as badly, but Dick still leaned heavily on Nix as they walked, and put all his energy into not falling on his face. He was exhausted by the time they reached his foxhole even though it was only a few yards away, but Nix walked him right past it. 

"More room in mine," he said when Dick made a questioning sound. That made sense, Dick thought. His foxhole was large enough to fit him and next to nothing else. Spina would have more room to work in Nix's, which was almost double in width and depth. One of the perks of being the regiment S3, he supposed; or, at least, the perk of being the only regimental staff officer that regularly stayed on the line with the men. 

Nix had a nest of blankets in his foxhole, and he helped Dick settle in it as comfortably as he could. "Why didn't you say something when it happened? You could've gone with Harry in the jeep."

"I didn't notice anything was wrong until after they'd left," Dick said. "And then I thought it was just the flu."

"Oh, like that would be a walk in the park."

Dick shrugged. "Anyway, even if I had noticed, I wouldn't…"

"You wouldn't want to leave the men," Nix finished for him. He sighed when Dick didn't answer. "I'll find Spina. Are you going to be okay by yourself or should I get one of the men to sit with you?" 

Dick shook his head and then clutched at it through the pain. He needed to remember to stop doing that. "Less people that know, the better."

Nix sighed again. "Right," he said, and heaved himself out of his foxhole.

Without Nix to talk to Dick had trouble keeping his eyes open, he was just so tired. He'd almost drifted off when some half-remembered first aid training from Benning or Toccoa came to mind. He thought he remembered them saying it was dangerous to sleep with a concussion, and he forced himself to sit up and stay awake. Maybe he should have let Nix find one of the men to keep an eye on him, but it was bad enough that Spina would have to know. The last thing they needed was for word to spread that Second Battalion was down two officers in the space of one evening, even if Dick had no intention of leaving the line unless Spina dragged him to Bastogne himself.

He'd just have to keep himself awake somehow. He tried to imagine how his parents and sister were celebrating back home right now, but somehow his brain couldn't make sense of the time change tonight and trying to sort it out only frustrated him. At least his head wasn't aching as much now, and the dizziness had largely passed after that last bad spell.

He'd nearly dozed off again when he heard footsteps approaching, and Spina slid into the foxhole with Nix on his heels. "Captain Winters?"

"Hi Ralph." 

"Heard you got your bell rung, sir."

"It's still ringing," Dick admitted. He held still while Spina checked his eyes, pronounced them fine, and then examined his entire head for injury. "Think I hit my head earlier, when Lieutenant Welsh was wounded."

"Then he thought he'd keep quiet about it and no one would notice," Nix added.

"But you did, sir," Spina said.

"Yeah," Nix said. "I did." 

He said it with such intensity that Dick was sure he must have heard him wrong. His ears were still ringing from time to time, and anyway, Spina didn't seem to have noticed anything unusual. He just asked Dick about the pain, and how dizzy and queasy he'd been feeling, and seemed pleased that Dick thought he was feeling better. He looked even more pleased that Dick hadn't lost consciousness at all.

"Concussion," he said. "Looks like it's a mild one. Not much to be done for it anyway, aside from rest. No walking up and down the line to check on the men, sir."

"Hey, it's like he knows you," Nix said with a grin. 

Dick was tempted to roll his eyes, and the only thing that stopped him was Spina's presence. "How long until I'm back to normal?"

Spina shook his head. "Hard to tell with head injuries. Case like yours, I'd say about a week. But you gotta take it easy. You don't wanna hit your head again while you're still healing. Get some sleep tonight, but I'm gonna come back and wake you every couple of hours, if the Kraut artillery doesn't do it first." 

"I'll do it," Nix said. "You don't know when Roe's getting back from town, and I don't think the Krauts'll let us have an easy night. You'll have enough going on without having to run back and forth to the CP."

Spina nodded. "All right, sir. Just ask him some questions when you do, like his birthday or where was born. If he can't answer them or you can't wake him up, get me."

"Thank you, Ralph," Dick said as Spina slung his bag over his shoulder and climbed out of the foxhole. "I want you to keep this quiet. The men have had enough to deal with tonight."

"Gotcha. Don't worry about a thing, sir."

Nix turned to him as Spina's footsteps faded into the distance. "How's the head?"

"Better." He caught Nix's doubtful look. "It is, Nix. Really."

"Hungry?"

Even though the nausea had passed, Dick still cringed inwardly at the thought. "Not yet."

"Okay." Nix fell silent, and when long minutes passed without either of them speaking Dick figured he should probably try to get some sleep. He could feel his head throbbing when he closed his eyes, and it was distracting enough that he wasn't sure he'd be able to settle enough to sleep. He tried to let his mind drift, and it wasn't until he was halfway to an uneasy doze that he heard Nix's voice once more. "This can't happen again, Dick."

Dick lifted his head where he'd rested it against the side of the foxhole and tried to sort out what Nix was saying. He still didn't want any of the men to know, but he supposed he wouldn't mind it if someone like Talbert or Lipton came to sit with him for a while. He'd trust those men with his life, and they could take it in shifts. It wasn't fair to leave it all to Nix, after all. He'd done so much for Dick already. "You don't have to stay with me all night."

"Of course I'm staying," Nix snapped, and he sounded insulted enough that Dick realized he'd gotten it all wrong. "I meant this - you-" He broke off in a huff and waved his hand between them, looking frustrated. "I need you here, Dick."

It wasn't any easier to parse Nix's words than it had been to try and figure out the time difference between Lancaster and Bastogne earlier. "I am here."

"That's not what I mean," Nix said, his voice rising. Dick winced at the noise, and Nix took a deep breath as if to calm himself. When he spoke again his voice was low and urgent. "You pushed me out of the way today. When Harry was hit." 

Dick still didn't remember hitting his head, but he did remember pushing Nix aside at the first sign of artillery coming at them. He'd hit the ground after that, but not before checking to see that Nix was safe. 

"You pushed me out of the way," Nix said again. It sounded accusing. He sounded furious. "Then you lost your helmet, and we're lucky that all you did was fall and hit your head. Because I keep thinking about how it could've been you tonight instead of Harry, or maybe you and Harry together, heading to that aid station. Or worse."

"Lew-" Dick started, but Nix ignored him.

"And that can't happen, Dick. It just can't. So the next time you think about playing the hero and putting yourself in danger for somebody else - for _me_ \- I need you to remember that. Because I wouldn't last a goddamn day without you."

Nix's hands were shaking, Dick realized. He hated how much he'd frightened Nix today. "You would, Lew. Of course you would." 

"I wouldn't," Nix insisted. "I couldn't. I wouldn't want to anyway, without you here." He swallowed hard and reached for Dick's hand. "Do you understand what I'm saying?"

There was no whiskey on his breath, and he was looking at Dick with something like desperation in his eyes. Something like love too, and the only thing that surprised Dick about it was that he'd seen that same look in Nix's eyes before, over days and weeks and years, and had never understood it for what it was, until now.

It was more of a confession of love than he'd ever expected to receive, and for a moment his throat was almost too tight for him to speak.

"Yeah," he said. "I think I do."

Nix looked equal parts relieved and terrified. "Look, I just - after today, I wanted you to know. You don't have to, uh, do anything about it. Or feel the same."

A mortar hit somewhere down the line, and was answered by one of their machine guns. Their quiet wouldn't last for much longer. Nix seemed to think the same and tried to pull his hand away, but Dick held on and said, "What if I do?"

Nix looked at him like he couldn't believe it, but he must have seen something in Dick's expression that convinced him because he suddenly smiled. Not a wry little grin, but one of his real smiles, the kind that brightened his whole face and never failed to make Dick's heart skip a beat. "I'd probably say that you hit your head today, so that would explain it."

This time Dick did roll his eyes. "Well, then ask me again tomorrow if you want, or a year from now. My answer isn't going to change. This isn't - it isn't something new, Nix."

Nix's expression softened. "Come over here," he said, and arranged them so that they were lying down under the blankets. Dick rested his head on Nix's shoulder, just like he'd wanted to hours before, and felt Nix press a kiss to his hair. 

Dick's head still ached but he thought he could sleep well here, with Nix's arms around him and Nix's heart beating steadily beneath his ear. This time when he felt his eyes slipping closed, he didn't try to force himself to stay awake.

Nix kissed Dick's hair again, maybe just because he finally could. "I'll wake you soon," he said, and Dick's last thought before he drifted off to sleep was that, for the first time since they'd left Mourmelon, he actually felt warm.


End file.
